


Faded picture

by epic_thunderstorm



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Karl Jacobs-centric, M/M, Memory Loss, Multi, Multiple Endings, Time Travelling Karl Jacobs, Web Series: Tales from the SMP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epic_thunderstorm/pseuds/epic_thunderstorm
Summary: They always seem to meet.And every time he loses them, leaves a piece of himself behind.Is it even worth it?
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	1. Home isn't just a memory

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not a writer but it's 3am, i just finished the latest tales episode and i don't hate it, so now you have to read it

They always seem to meet.

No matter where the portal takes him, there's always someone who seems just too familiar to be a stranger.

The boy he meets, that makes the long lost treasure they're hunting down feel insignificant.

The fisherman he befriends, whose ridiculous jokes make him smile a little too fondly, like he's heard them a hundred times before.

The pair of bandits that throw around words he recognizes when no one around him does.

His dance partner at the masquerade, eyes filled with a fire that's scares everyone but him, like he knows its not meant to hurt, but to protect. The weirdo in too little clothing that slots between them just right, like he belongs.

The self proclaimed village whore that he takes one look at and just knows it's only a front, an act, a defense mechanism. He is proven right when his few nights there are spent cuddled up in bed to small for two grown men.

___

They always seem to part without goodbyes.

Sometimes he gets pulled back into white, furiously scribbling down every detail before he forgets, because it's important, because he needs to remember.

Sometimes the people around him leave first.

Most of the time they die.

And every time hurts.

And the hurt lingers when the memories don't.

He doesn't care for his life, has long figured out he can't die, even if he wanted to. But he cares for those who have ceased to live because he failed them.

Because in an attempt to fix his timeline he has destroyed so many others.

Because for this one to have a happy ending, for this one to be the one where they make it, he has to see his fiancés die, over and over and over.

Because, in some amazing, cruel force of nature, their paths in time are forever intertwined and there has only ever been one version of him.

He can't help the the tears as he clutches the picture to his chest, curled up in a corner between too many bookshelves, too tired to keeps his eyes open any longer.

___

But as he wakes again, feeling warm and fuzzy, face full of black hair, golden wings draped over him, he feels like it might just be worth it.


	2. but it can be forgotten all the same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> karlnapity w/ a happy ending make happy brain chemicals go brrrrr, but here is a sad ending, just to feel something

He wakes suddenly, to two faces staring at him. He doesn't recognise them, doesn't know these people, can't place the look in their eyes.

Every rational part of his sleep-addled brain is screaming at him. Not to trust these strangers, to protect himself from getting hurt because that's all that seems to happen these days.

But something about the two men kneeling in front him feels like home. Feels safe. He wonders why he has to hold back from smoothing out the crease between furrowed eyebrows, why it hurts to see golden feathers twitch anxiously. Some part of him wants to reach out, fall into the embrace of these people he has never met. But he can't. Not after... what exactly? There's a bitter taste in his mouth, a trace of something bad he can't recall. So he does the sensible thing, the thing you do when you meet new people (right?). He asks "who are you?". Its all he manages to get out before the pull is back, before the world is spinning and he is drawn back to a colourless dimension.

And if there is a distant sound, like fragile glass breaking, it has nothing to do with the ache in his chest, right?

And if the only clear memory of his is two unfamiliar faces looking at him, eyes full of adoration and so, so much pain, it just the Inbetween messing with his brain again.

Right?

\---

He doesn't notice the slip of paper tossed around by the wind, tumbling down into the void. But a glimpse of warm eyes, golden feathers, colourful hoodies and happy smiles wouldn't have changed anything anyways.


End file.
